


An Old-Fashioned Love Song

by gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Memories, Public Blow Jobs, Requited Love, Slow Dancing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jack didn’t think Compton had the slightest idea who he was, but... Jack remembered him. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Old-Fashioned Love Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meldanya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldanya/gifts).



> Based on [a very not-old-fashioned love song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JCLY0Rlx6Q). ♥

_“We were victims of the night, the chemical, physical, kryptonite...”_

Jack didn’t think Compton had the slightest idea who he was, but... Jack remembered him. It wasn’t the most usual name, after all, one didn’t come across that many men named Lyle Compton in one lifetime (unlike the number of John Robinsons Jack had encountered during the war years alone), and he didn’t think there could be more than one Lyle Compton who was _this_ Lyle Compton.

And although he knew he himself wasn’t the sort of man to make much of an impression (he was a detective for a reason, after all; he blended in, he was forgettable), he had never forgotten Lyle Compton. In twenty years, he had never forgotten... that trip to Sydney with his Uncle Ted... going to a strange dance hall with his cousin Emily, who had neither time nor interest in men but who knew that Jack had an eye for a pair of fine eyes and a set of broad shoulders.

And Lyle Compton had possessed both, in abundance, even then...

 

* * *

 

_“Helpless to the bass and the fading light, oh, we were bound to get together.”_

He’d never been among such a crowd before. At dances, certainly, at school and at Christmas parties and the like. But never amidst so many people who felt as he did... it was terrifying and liberating and spine-chilling.

“I’m going to pass out and die from excitement before anything happens,” he grumbled to Emily as she passed him a drink from the bar.

She laughed at him. He couldn’t hear her, the music and the voices of the crowd were much too loud, but he knew that wide, open-mouthed smile, even in the smoky dimness of the underground club. “I wouldn’t count on it, Jacky,” she teased. “I think you’ve got an admirer.”

“Don’t fool with me, Em, we haven’t even been here ten minutes—”

“Excuse me, but would you care to dance?”

 

* * *

 

_“He took my arm, I don't know how it happened.”_

Jack felt a strong, masculine hand on his arm and his mouth went dry. He tore his eyes from Emily’s knowing grin and looked into a pair of dark, luminous eyes, on a level with his own. A strong, square face. A generous mouth. Dark hair like his own. And then back to the eyes. Jack forgot how to breathe. He wanted to drown in those eyes.

“I... yes? Yes.”

The young man’s smooth dark eyebrows quirked up. “Unless you’re otherwise occupied...?”

Emily laughed. “I just have to get him home in one piece. He’s all yours, Mr...?”

“Compton. Lyle Compton.” He answered Emily but his eyes never left Jack.

Jack swallowed and held out his hand. “John Robinson, but everyone calls me Jack.”

“Would you like to dance with me...” Lyle let his beautiful eyes skim over Jack’s lean, youthful frame, which had left most of its early teenaged gangle behind and replaced it with an admirable set of muscles that his outgrown suit couldn’t entirely hide. “Jack?”

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

_“Don’t you dare look back. Just keep your eyes on me.”_

Lyle led him onto the dance floor and the music struck up, a slow sultry tune. There were a few awkward seconds of trying to figure out who was going to lead. “It’s always like this,” Lyle said, chuckling. “Dancing with a bloke can get confusing if the two fellows aren’t in time with each other.”

Jack smiled shyly. “You lead.”

“You got it.” He put Jack’s left hand on his shoulder and settled his on Jack’s hip, and clasped their right hands together. They began to move in step to the music, perfectly in time.

Jack felt eyes on the back of his neck, and flushed. “We’re being watched.”

“You bet we are, kid. We’re the best looking couple in the room.”

Suddenly Jack felt terrified. What if someone here recognized him? What if someone knew who he was and would find a way to tell Uncle Ted? He stiffened and stumbled, babbling apologies.

“Jack. Jack, hey. Keep your eyes on me, beautiful, okay?”

Jack looked up and Lyle’s liquid-dark eyes spilled over him. The music drowned out his worries, and the touch of Lyle’s broad, gentle hands steadied him. Everything would be all right.

 

* * *

 

_“You’re holding back.” “Shut up and dance with me.”_

The little alcove was dark and over-warm and too small, but there was nowhere else Jack wanted to be at that moment. “You’re trembling,” Lyle murmured, one hand tangled into Jack’s hair, the other stroking gently between Jack’s legs. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

“N-no...”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” Jack gulped. “How old are you?”

He thought Lyle might have blushed. In the dimness it was hard to tell, but the cheek pressed to his suddenly seemed to grow warmer. “Twenty.”

“Have you ever been with a man?”

The hand on his cock stilled. It was all the answer Jack needed.

He wrapped his fingers around Lyle’s wrist, urging him to continue. “Don’t hold back, mate, we’re just getting started.”

“You’re a sarky little shit, you know that?” Lyle nipped the spot where Jack’s neck and shoulder joined.

“Nnngh... maybe. Sounds familiar.”

“Shut up, Jack.” Lyle kissed a line from the side of Jack’s neck up to his lips, fisting his cock the whole time. “Dance with me.”

 

* * *

 

_“I felt it in my chest as he looked at me. I knew we were bound to be together.”_

It was all Jack could think of, now, whenever he ran into Lyle Compton. On the case (Christ, that case had been a torment on so many levels), on routine court business, in town for no reason at all. All he could think of, when he had to talk politely with the group-captain of nondescript topics, was smooth-faced twenty-year-old Lyle Compton’s dark eyes glowing in the dimness as he sucked Jack to climax, the very first time he had ever felt a man’s mouth on his cock.

The blowjob was an impressive memory that he could still remember every hot slippery second of, but it was the remembrance of Lyle’s eyes that made Jack’s heart clench now. Nothing in his love life had ever compared to that. Not Rosie, not Phryne, not... anyone.

 

* * *

 

_“Deep in his eyes, I think I see the future. This is my last chance.”_

When Jack opened his front door, the last person on the planet he expected to see was Group-Captain Lyle Compton. He blinked. “Uh... hello.”

Lyle’s mouth twitched under his regulation mustache. “The files you wanted.” He held out an accordion file. “Your constable said it was your day off, and as it doesn’t look like we’ll be working together after the court date... well, I wanted to leave these with you.”

“Thank you.” Jack took the file. “I appreciate your confidence in me.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from babbling like a lovesick teenager, and took a deep breath. “Would you care to come in for a drink?”

The dark eyes under the captain’s brimmed hat suddenly seemed to thaw, and for a moment, Lyle looked pitifully uncertain. “I’d like that very much,” he said at last.

 

* * *

 

_“This man is my destiny.”_

“Do you know,” Lyle said, a long time later, when hat and file and drink were all forgotten, and he had relearned what Jack tasted like and given Jack the chance to learn the same thing about him, “I never thought this would happen?”

Jack chuckled softly and pressed himself tighter against Lyle’s side. He was exhausted, and he ached, and now he and Lyle and the whole room stank of sweat and sex, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be. “I can imagine.”

“No, it’s... nothing recent, I just...” Lyle huffed out a laugh. “I’d convinced myself that you didn’t remember me in the slightest.”


End file.
